spn ficlet for 9.2 "Grandma" (G)
Oct. 22nd, 2013 02:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
title: Grandma
author:
fannishliss
rating: G
pairings: none
spoilers: mild for SPN 9.2 "Devil May Care"
length: 600 words
part of my Women of Supernatural project
Summary: Demons take advantage in moments of chaos and distress. Sometimes, human misery serves as an inspiration.
===
"You're moving to Chicago?" Sarah said, feeling numb.
"They have a museum there with a giant Tyrannosaurus, and It's name is Sue!" Jack shouted excitedly, waving his fork.
"Stop waving your fork, Jack, you're getting food everywhere," Melinda said, as Jack's big gob of mashed potatoes and gravy landed on the carpet.
Sarah automatically rose to her feet and retrieved a paper towel from the kitchen to dab up the food before it stained.
"I don't want to move," Maddie said quietly.
"It'll be fine, sweetheart," Jason said. "You'll make so many friends, and you can write to Emily and Olivia whenever you want."
Liar, Sarah thought bitterly, slowly getting back to her feet. You just want to uproot your ten-year-old daughter without feeling guilty.
"But what about grandma?" Maddie said, darting her a look. The kids had spent every afternoon with Sarah as long as they could remember.
"Your grandma needs time for herself, you know," Melinda said, with a quick smile at Sarah. "She'll have plenty to do without her grandkids."
Sarah saw red and her numbness burned off. Melinda had never felt that way when she needed Sarah to take care of them as babies, and every day after school, and now, after Sarah had given her golden years to her son's children, they were just leaving her behind, matter of fact.
"We'll still come home for the holidays, of course!" Jason said. "It wouldn't be the same without Mom's cooking, would it, Melinda?"
Melinda was a terrible cook. She and Jason pretty much lived on pre-made meals from Costco. Sarah had always cooked and eaten with the kids because Jason and Melinda got home so late.
"Grandma taught me how to make apple pie," Maddie said.
"That's right, dear," Sarah said, swallowing down her helpless rage and sadness. "You'll always have that to remember me by."
Jason didn't seem to fear that Sarah would raise a fuss about the move. She'd always built her life around whatever her son needed from her. And now he was leaving her, alone, without a thought.
"Let's have some of that pie, Mom!" Jason said. "To celebrate!"
"Pie!" cheered Jack.
Maddie helped Sarah clear away the dishes and proudly carried in the pie she and Sarah had made together. Sarah's eyes burned as she thought of Maddie's careful hands, patting out the dough, pinching around the edge with clever little fingers. The pie was sweet and rich, with just the perfect spices, but to Sarah it tasted like gall.
Lying alone that night in her empty house, Sarah sobbed, the aching new-made void churning inside her before her grandkids were even really gone. What would fill her life, without Maddie and Jack? Sarah couldn't imagine. Everything swirled inside her head, a chaos of loss and helplessness.
It wasn't the end of the world, was it? Sarah always picked up the pieces.
Why am I always the one to suffer? The bitter thought wore a groove through Sarah's brain.
Just before dawn, Sarah smelled something odd in her room — sulfur?
By morning, Sarah's anger had burned cold.
She hardly felt it when Maddie and Jack hugged her goodbye.
She wasn't shocked when the officers came to the door, notifying her that her son had flipped his SUV into oncoming traffic on the interstate outside Chicago, no survivors.
She shed no tears at the funeral. She'd found something to do besides her own grandkids —a new volunteer position, at an aftercare for underprivileged children. A grandma type would be just the thing, the management said. She'd help those kids get everything they wanted.
author:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rating: G
pairings: none
spoilers: mild for SPN 9.2 "Devil May Care"
length: 600 words
part of my Women of Supernatural project
Summary: Demons take advantage in moments of chaos and distress. Sometimes, human misery serves as an inspiration.
===
"You're moving to Chicago?" Sarah said, feeling numb.
"They have a museum there with a giant Tyrannosaurus, and It's name is Sue!" Jack shouted excitedly, waving his fork.
"Stop waving your fork, Jack, you're getting food everywhere," Melinda said, as Jack's big gob of mashed potatoes and gravy landed on the carpet.
Sarah automatically rose to her feet and retrieved a paper towel from the kitchen to dab up the food before it stained.
"I don't want to move," Maddie said quietly.
"It'll be fine, sweetheart," Jason said. "You'll make so many friends, and you can write to Emily and Olivia whenever you want."
Liar, Sarah thought bitterly, slowly getting back to her feet. You just want to uproot your ten-year-old daughter without feeling guilty.
"But what about grandma?" Maddie said, darting her a look. The kids had spent every afternoon with Sarah as long as they could remember.
"Your grandma needs time for herself, you know," Melinda said, with a quick smile at Sarah. "She'll have plenty to do without her grandkids."
Sarah saw red and her numbness burned off. Melinda had never felt that way when she needed Sarah to take care of them as babies, and every day after school, and now, after Sarah had given her golden years to her son's children, they were just leaving her behind, matter of fact.
"We'll still come home for the holidays, of course!" Jason said. "It wouldn't be the same without Mom's cooking, would it, Melinda?"
Melinda was a terrible cook. She and Jason pretty much lived on pre-made meals from Costco. Sarah had always cooked and eaten with the kids because Jason and Melinda got home so late.
"Grandma taught me how to make apple pie," Maddie said.
"That's right, dear," Sarah said, swallowing down her helpless rage and sadness. "You'll always have that to remember me by."
Jason didn't seem to fear that Sarah would raise a fuss about the move. She'd always built her life around whatever her son needed from her. And now he was leaving her, alone, without a thought.
"Let's have some of that pie, Mom!" Jason said. "To celebrate!"
"Pie!" cheered Jack.
Maddie helped Sarah clear away the dishes and proudly carried in the pie she and Sarah had made together. Sarah's eyes burned as she thought of Maddie's careful hands, patting out the dough, pinching around the edge with clever little fingers. The pie was sweet and rich, with just the perfect spices, but to Sarah it tasted like gall.
Lying alone that night in her empty house, Sarah sobbed, the aching new-made void churning inside her before her grandkids were even really gone. What would fill her life, without Maddie and Jack? Sarah couldn't imagine. Everything swirled inside her head, a chaos of loss and helplessness.
It wasn't the end of the world, was it? Sarah always picked up the pieces.
Why am I always the one to suffer? The bitter thought wore a groove through Sarah's brain.
Just before dawn, Sarah smelled something odd in her room — sulfur?
By morning, Sarah's anger had burned cold.
She hardly felt it when Maddie and Jack hugged her goodbye.
She wasn't shocked when the officers came to the door, notifying her that her son had flipped his SUV into oncoming traffic on the interstate outside Chicago, no survivors.
She shed no tears at the funeral. She'd found something to do besides her own grandkids —a new volunteer position, at an aftercare for underprivileged children. A grandma type would be just the thing, the management said. She'd help those kids get everything they wanted.